


habit breaker

by EmpathyGalore



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Chloe's POV, F/F, Nothing too big though, but not included, everyone's a junior in college, except max of course, how/when chloe meets rachel, just nathan and co. being their usual selves, may add more tags in the future, maybe referenced, she most likely won't be included in this story, some violence may happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 18:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11469075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpathyGalore/pseuds/EmpathyGalore
Summary: Patterns. That’s all I began to know. Wake up, get dressed, have my usual morning panic attack, suck up all the bullshit and go on with my day. I was content with this— my daily routines, it was comforting. Leave it to Rachel Amber to shake things up.





	habit breaker

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for not continuing my other story lmao here's this  
> inspired by the upcoming before the storm game!  
> rly excited for it kms please don't hurt me again @dontnod and co

Patterns. That’s all I began to know. Wake up, get dressed, have my usual morning panic attack, suck up all the bullshit and go on with my day. Arrive at school, zone out during all classes, go home. I didn’t do much other than that- I never really left my house, you could say I was very home bodied. I never went anywhere that I didn’t have to do, didn’t do anything I didn’t have to do. I was content with this— my daily routines, it was comforting. Leave it to Rachel Amber to shake things up.

 

Everything that happened that morning is nothing but fuzzy, remnants of the pattern that repeated itself every day. It was fourth period— chemistry— and hell if I remember anything about what Ms. Grant was talking about. Chemicals? In the fog of my mind I could make out something about late homework, maybe a few weeks late, and maybe the mention of my name. Not in the same sentence, though. I never turned in anything late. 

A few minutes passed. More pieces of words strung themselves together in my brain… something about projects? Partners, student A couldn’t work with student B, blah blah blah, new student. Wait— new student? Blinking, I cleared the fog and focused my attention onto her mouth. “…tomorrow we will welcome a new student. Her name is Rachel Amber, and she will be transferring here— specifically, in this class. Of course, I’m not sure about your other classes. I’m just making this aware so that you all know to put front your best behavior…“ A few giggles dispersed across the classroom here and there— “…and to welcome her. Also, the seating arrangement will be changed because of this, we are a very packed classroom…” Past this point, I have no idea what she started talking about, I’d resumed back to my daydreaming. 

The pattern continued— class ended, I picked up the new homework from her desk and shoved it into my binder, and went to my next class. Each class went buzzed by quickly, took some notes here and there, collected homework, left. Rinse and repeat. Finally, the last bell of the day rang. Sigh. Gathering my belongings, I rushed out of the building. “Really need a car…” I mumbled to myself, taking the first step outside. “Need a ride?” A voice responded, causing me to jump and whip my head around. Ah, Hayden. A quiet, nerdy stoner. He was pretty chill, I was friends with him. We met freshmen year. “Um, I’m good, thanks though.” I replied. Friends as we were, he still creeped me out sometimes. He didn’t really know boundaries, especially when it came to his words.

“C’mon,” he said, putting an arm on my shoulder. “Look.” He pointed upwards. My eyes followed. “It’s going to rain soon. You live miles away. You really wanna walk home in that shit?” I looked back at him. Well.. he had a point. I exhaled. “Mm, okay. Yeah, sure.” He gave a smile. I looked him dead in the eyes. “Don’t try not shit, alright?” He chuckled and threw his hands up defensively. “Aye, no worries. I know.” 

We took the short walk to his truck— a banged up old thing, rusty as hell. He always parked up front though, which was relieving. Once we got to it, he unlocked the driver’s door and climbed inside, reaching over and unlocking the passenger’s door. I, subconsciously, hesitated for a single second. Looking up, I saw grey clouds slowly creep their way across the sky. Yeah, fuck that. I stepped into the truck. Buckling my seatbelt, I glanced towards the dash of Hayden’s car, my eyes trailing to his rearview mirror. You know those car fresheners? Y’know, shaped like trees? He had one, and it waved slightly from a breeze I could not feel. Shaped like a marijuana leaf. It gave off the scent of pinecones. He noticed my gaze and shrugged, which I saw from the corner of my eye. “An avid stoner, they call me.” I scoffed. “Yeah, avid is definitely one word for it.” He gave a smirk in response and started his truck. “Do I need to tell you my address?” I asked, putting my feet up on the dash. “Price, I know where you live—“ I raised an eyebrow, and he coughed, “—I mean, while driving home, I’ve seen you walk up to your house, so… ugh, look, you live close to me. I wasn’t, like, stalking you.” A smile twitched on my lips. “That’s somethin’ a stalker would say.” He hit my shoulder. “Shut up.”

The ride home was relatively silent, midway through he turned on his radio, and punk rock blared through the speakers and what sounded like maximum volume. “You like punk rock?” I asked, surprised. “Wow, Chloe. That’s so racist.” He said playfully, and I rolled my eyes. “You just don’t seem like the type.” He nodded his head towards me. “Again, racist.” A nudged his wheel with my foot before taking both off of the dash. 

After about five more minutes, he was pulling into my driveway. I glanced around, I saw my dad’s car, but not my mom’s. Which was weird, usually she’s home by the time I get home. Well, I did get a ride rather than walk. That does make a time difference. He turned down the music until it was nearly quiet. “Thanks for the ride.” I said, turning and reaching for the handle. He poked my shoulder with a finger and I tilted my head back. “I went the entire ride without “trying anything,” now can you suck my dick? Pweeaassee?” He pouted, sticking out his bottom lip, the corners of his mouth tilted up. “Sure, I’ll do that right when I stop liking girls.” He let out a breathy laugh, mumbled “lesbo”, then raised his fist half way. I did the same with mine, then fist bumped him before climbing out of his car and slamming his door closed. “Later, Chloe!” I heard him say, muffled by the inside of the car before pulling out of the driveway. I heard the music blast again, before I heard him honk once then drive away. 

The sky gave a rumble and small water droplets began to come down. Looking up, I saw that now the entire sky was a light grey. The sun peered from a crack in the clouds, struggling to take the sky back over. Another louder rumble was my cue to head up the few steps to my front door. 

Weird, though, I thought. The weather channel didn’t predict a storm today.


End file.
